CHAPTER 8

There was a rumor I often heard back at Sy, that the goddess is the Lycan king's mate. That's why, even after he challenged her to obtain supreme leadership, she merely exiled him. Couldn't afford to lose her mate, could she?" The thought gnawed at me as I was led to the auction, my chains clinking with each step I took.

It has been three days.

Three days of darkness, loneliness, and the constant dread of what was waiting ahead. Well… I guess it's finally time.

The guard yanked my blindfold off, and the sudden burst of light almost blinded me. I squinted my eyes as I tried to adjust to the sudden brightness of the auction room, the deafening roar of the crowd washing over me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a special treat for today! A half-shifter, with blood so potent, it can reverse time!" The auctioneer's oily voice boomed through the hall. "Are you feeling old and weary? Do you yearn for your lost youth?" The crowd erupted in cheers much louder than before. "Well, look no further! A few doses of her blood, and you'll be younger than ever!"

"We'll start with fifty million gold!" the auctioneer shouted, his voice barely audible over the clamor.

"Sixty!" Someone yelled among the crowds.

"Sixty-five!" Someone countered.

A wry grin crept across my lips. My blood was special? Who would have thought?

"Seventy!"

"One hundred!"

It felt absurd standing in the spotlight as I watched a bunch of strangers decide my worth. So absurd that I felt like throwing up.

The crowd was wild, their voices filling every corner, but a hush fell over the room when a deep, resonant voice cut through the chaos. "One billion."

The silence that followed was so intense my heart pounded. I craned my neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the bidder, but he was too high up to see. Even if I could, I wouldn't have been able to identify him, as everyone at the auction was masked. But I was sure of one thing: it was the voice of a man.

The auctioneer hesitated. "One billion gold going once... going twice... " He slammed down the gavel. "And sold!

One billion gold… was I worth the amount.

I was led to a private room and ushered inside by an elderly woman. She stared at me for what felt like an eternity before finally breaking the silence.

"Time to clean you up," she rasped, her voice grating against my ears. I followed her into a small, tiled room where a steaming tub was already prepared for me. As I sank into the warm water, a wave of relief washed over me. It was hard to believe I'd forgotten the simple pleasure of taking a bath; the gentle caress of the water against my skin felt like a lifeline.

The old woman poured a bucket of water over my head, her fingers massaging my scalp with a surprising tenderness I wasn't expecting from her. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to relax, to savor the sensation. I wished that moment could last forever. But life, as I was forced to learn, was rarely ever fair to me.

The reality that I was now nothing but a commodity didn't sink in until a cold metal collar was clasped around my neck after I'd dressed. Standing before the mirror, I stared at my reflection, but my gaze was riveted on the collar. My once-familiar face now bore the harsh symbol of my new status, making my own reflection almost unrecognizable. I felt reduced to a mere commodity – a possession to be bought and sold. The realization hit me with a force that left me breathless.

"You," the old woman said, her voice breaking the silence. "You are quite the commodity."

I looked up to meet her gaze. Her eyes sparkled with a sinister gleam.

"I meant you are beautiful," she purred, her voice laced with a sickly sweetness.

I shifted my gaze back to my reflection, my heart racing in my chest. As if on cue, a figure entered the room. I stared at him through the reflection of the mirror. He was dressed in fine garments and exuded an air of sophistication and power as he walked.

Our eyes met for a brief moment before he turned his gaze to the old lady. "Is she ready?" He asked.

She lifted her head, which had been bowed, and replied, "Yes, my lord." The old lady then turned to me, her voice softening. "Come," she said. "It's time for you to leave."

I was finally leaving the slave market, but at what cost?